


i wanna sleep next to you (and i wanna come home to you)

by bellawritess



Series: lashton prompts [11]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Based On a Troye Sivan Song, FINALLY right, First Kiss, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Songfic, a love that defies labels, but let's not get ahead of ourselves, emo lashton, maybe even a happy ending?, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: By the burning red glow of Luke’s digital clock, it’s three in the morning when Ashton wakes him up.
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin
Series: lashton prompts [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026498
Kudos: 9





	i wanna sleep next to you (and i wanna come home to you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waytoofadedtodrive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waytoofadedtodrive/gifts).



> **prompt:** breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that you’re murmuring into each other’s mouths + talk me down by troye sivan
> 
> [tumblr link!](https://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/post/625502512109207552/1-with-lashton-please-bella-i-love-you-so-much-but)
> 
> title from talk me down by troye sivan

By the burning red glow of Luke’s digital clock, it’s three in the morning when Ashton wakes him up.

“Ash,” Luke mumbles. He gets a bit of whiplash sitting up so quickly; Ashton awake at three in the morning almost never means anything good, and Ashton waking _him_ at three in the morning is probably worse. “Hey. Hey. What’s up?”

Ashton shifts on his feet like he’s not sure if he can get in, so Luke sits up and moves over, patting the space beside him. 

“Sorry,” Ashton says, which is always his first word when he wakes Luke, no matter how many times Luke has told him not to be sorry. That this is what he’s here for, what _they’re_ here for, and that Ashton can wake him at any time, whenever, for as long as he needs. It’s impossible to phrase, exactly, the way that Luke is so sure he needs — and wants — to be there for Ashton. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Luke says gently. “What’s up? What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing,” Ashton says hollowly, sinking into the mattress and tucking his legs up under him. “I don’t really know. I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Luke says. He reaches tentatively for Ashton and Ashton doesn’t jerk away, so he settles a hand in Ashton’s hair, smoothing it down and running his fingers between the strands. “That’s okay.”

“I felt like I needed to come home,” Ashton whispers, “but this is my house. I live here. It doesn’t get more home than this.”

Luke moves closer, wraps an arm around Ashton’s shoulders. “I know the feeling.”

“You feel like home, though,” Ashton murmurs, deliberately training his eyes on the duvet. “In here, with you. Anywhere with you.”

Luke feels his heart drum up a rhythm, and tries his best to ignore it. “I know that feeling, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Ashton says again, slightly desperate, though for what, Luke can’t imagine. “I know I can’t — I shouldn’t — say things like that, but I just —”

“Ashton, it’s okay. Really.”

“You make me feel safe,” Ashton says quietly, finally turning to look at Luke. Darkness shrouds his face, and Luke can barely make out the outline of his features, cheekbones sunk, jawline strong, eyes as piercing as ever. “Always, no matter what.”

“Ashton,” Luke breathes, gazing at him, unable to find the words for what he wants to say; it’s too big for words, too fragile to speak into existence.

He leans in, and then jerks, because this is something delicate and balanced; barely manages, “Can I —” before Ashton meets him halfway, kissing him like it’s the only thing in the world he’s sure of.

It’s easy to kiss Ashton. It’s the easiest thing in the world, because Ashton really is home for Luke, more than any other person, place, or thing, more than Sydney or LA, more than Michael or Calum, more than his own house, his own dog. The space Ashton fills in his heart is too big to call anything but home, and by the way Ashton sighs into his open mouth, it’s a more or less mutual feeling.

That’s what they do, here. Mutual feelings. They break in canon and heal in canon, and every once in a while they overlap on good days or bad days, but they always fix themselves up and start over. Half the time, Luke only dusts himself off from the knowledge that he’s going to need to be at his best when Ashton undoubtedly crashes in a few days. In every sense, Ashton is what hauls Luke to his feet when he’s at his worst, what sets him straight once again on the path towards doing better, being better. 

In the dark, right now, lips moving in tandem with Ashton’s, Luke has never felt more aligned.

Ashton pulls back by a millimetre, leans his forehead against Luke’s, exhales. “I don’t deserve you,” is what he murmurs, all air and no substance, the words floating from his mouth to Luke’s.

Luke fists the back of Ashton’s shirt collar in his hand. “Stop it. It’s not a question of who deserves whom. If you want me, I’m yours. I’ve always been.”

“You can’t say that,” Ashton says helplessly. “I’m not — you can’t trust me with that. I’ll hurt you.”

“Ashton,” Luke whispers. “Would you ever hurt me?”

“No, of course not, not on purpose. But I might, by accident. I’m volatile. Come on, Luke, you’ve been living here long enough to know that.”

“Then I’ve been living here long enough for you to know I’m not much better,” Luke says, trying to balance gentleness with a hard undertone. “I’ve trusted you for seven years and you haven’t let me down yet. And I trust that if you make a mistake, you’ll set it right. Just like I will.”

“You sound awfully sure of yourself,” Ashton says, with a shaky laugh.

“I’m not,” Luke tells him. “It’s all a front. I’m secretly terrified, all the time, about everything.” Ashton smiles hesitantly, one of his hands finding Luke’s in the dark and tangling them together. “But I’m sure about you,” Luke adds. “About this, with you, whatever you want to call it.”

“Nothing,” Ashton says, sounding apologetic. “Nothing, yet. I don’t —”

“Okay. Nothing yet.”

“This is what I mean, you can’t —”

“Ashton,” Luke says calmly. “I can decide for myself. You matter to me. However I can be here for you, I will be. No more, no less.”

Ashton breathes out, long and slow. “When did you get so fucking sincere?”

Luke squeezes his hand. “Maybe around the time I met you. I just know how I feel, and this is the way I feel.” Ashton looks on the verge of saying something, but then he closes his mouth and sighs. “Whatever you want to ask for, just ask. I can always say no.” _Though I wouldn’t_ , he thinks, because he can’t come up with a single thing he would refuse Ashton.

“Can I sleep with you?” Ashton whispers. Then, hastily: “Just sleep, not, like…just sleep.”

“Of course,” Luke says. That’s already a given; beds are for sharing, always. “You don’t have to ask about that.”

“For the rest of…permanently,” Ashton clarifies, nervously. “Can I just stay here, with you?”

Luke scratches lightly at Ashton’s scalp with the hand around his neck. “Of course you can.”

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Always,” Luke says, and the word is captured by Ashton’s mouth on his, sweet and wet and warm and Ashton, so unlike anyone Luke’s ever kissed before. 

They fall asleep like that but lying down, faces so close their breath intermingles on the pillow, Luke holding Ashton tightly, like if he’s not careful Ashton will be gone by morning. 

(He won’t, though. He isn’t. This thing may be fragile but it’s a lot tougher than it seems, and so is Ashton.)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3 i'm on tumblr [@clumsyclifford](http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/) so come say hey!


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